


Floodgate

by Hambone



Category: Bloodborne (Video Game)
Genre: Bondage, Chastity Device, Coming Untouched, Enemas, Extremely Dubious Consent, Humiliation, Minor Violence, Multi, No Scat, Punishment
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-11
Updated: 2019-10-11
Packaged: 2020-12-12 04:42:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,689
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20983466
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hambone/pseuds/Hambone
Summary: Alfred is caught lying about his nightly liaisons and is forced to expose himself.





	Floodgate

**Author's Note:**

> The acts here are not meant to be sexual to those punishing him so it's not counted as non-con but as it is a forced punishment that ends up being sexual in nature keep that in mind. 
> 
> Wrote this in about two hours for no reason other than that I'm the best/worst. I reread it this morning after sleeping like a corpse and in retrospect this is really gross but I also am like that so 
> 
> Xoxo enjoy

“You were having sex, weren’t you?”

“No-!”

Alfred could not fully answer before he was kicked in the side, rolling over lamely in hopes it would help enforce his innocence. They were right though, for he had been. He had been having sex with any man in the city who doffed their cap at him, if they asked. Like a demon, lust had eaten away at his heart, and he had spread his legs willingly. these men who had caught him, his brothers in arms beneath the sign of the Executioners, had seen him departing from a liaison, fixing his clothing, flushed and nervous, and the man who had come out behind him from the alleyway. Now he was here, in the interrogation room at their compound, naked and bound and lying.

“I always knew you were a fool, Alfred, ever since you first came to us, but this?”

He kicked Alfred again and spat.

“It’s disgusting. To even call yourself a man of the cloth, much less one of our own, while such filth festers in your heart!”

Alfred could not meet his eyes, knowing that his fight against reality was pointless but unable to face the consequences, though he’d thought of them often. Master Logarius, beautiful and radiant – Master Logarius would not have him now. If he was made to leave this chapel in such a manner he would have nothing. He wanted to vomit.

“Answer the question.”

The other brother was colder, the fury that raged inside him kept at bay beneath his professional exterior, but Alfred could hear it there, in his voice, threatening to spill over and swallow him up.

“I-I did not-!”

He was grabbed by the hair and his face slammed into the flooring, not enough to break anything but enough to grind pebbles into his cheeks like shrapnel. They were tugging at him, angling his hips upwards in a way reminiscent of how he had spent the evening earlier, and he tried to pull away with a gasp.

“Don’t look there!”

It was too late, as they spread his legs enough to see him in entirety, silent and serious. He’d cleaned himself earlier in the night, preparing for his hunt, carefully working a cloth along the lines of the chastity cage fitted to his cock, but he still felt dirty as many eyes descended upon him. The cage was already a punishment, locked on him by men working directly under Master Logarius’s orders to keep him from his habit of self-abuse as overheard through the thin walls of the abbey. It had been a scant year since the magically untarnished metals first encased him, as his masturbation fixation had only really become a problem as adulthood eclipsed his teenage years, but it had not stopped him. His brothers knew well of the evils that man and beast could accomplish when they tried, but even they had not expected how depraved he already was by that point. While he learned to better silence his cries, and to keep the bed frame from knocking the walls, the cage had done little other than further his exploration of his ass as his options for reaching completion became limited. By now he had trained his prostate with expert precision, able to cum whole body from its stimulation alone.

“You’re as sluttish as expected,” one of them said, no humor in his tone at all. Fear rushed him till his ears rang, yet he knew they could see nothing of his earlier passions, all trace wiped from the outside neatly before he had again donned his trousers. He was not an animal, after all. Seeing what he knew they saw, the head of the group hummed distastefully.

“His outsides are not all there is to the act, unfortunately. We will need to go to certain lengths to see the reality of it.”

Alfred looked up at him anxiously.

“Truss him in the squat,” said the brother, “I will gather the necessary tools.”

Having worked interrogations himself, Alfred was fully aware of what he meant. He was hauled up and did not fight it, even as his body was bent into the stress position and rebound stiffly. His arms remained behind his back, but his thighs and calves were now tied together, first singularly and then, as he was bent to lie flat on them, to one another. Finally the ropes crossed his back, effectively forcing him to stand squatting upon the balls of his feet or risk falling to the side. Just getting into the position was uncomfortable enough, given his large build, and already he felt a burn beginning in his soles where they bore all the brunt of his weight. As they were finishing up, the eldest brother returned, clanging with instruments Alfred could not see from his angle.

“This is your last chance to admit your sins, Alfred,” he said, “before we force them from you.”

He could not, and so he set his jaw and stared at the cold stone floor. This seemed to surprise no one. Someone wrapped their hands around his face from behind, working their fingers, still gloved in hard leather, between his lips. Surprised but unwilling to truly fight his brothers, Alfred obligingly opened his mouth and a bit was immediately forced into it and strapped tightly to his head, biting into his scalp where it buckled. It was not unusual for them to use such implements to silence the screams of the wicked during interrogations, so as not to crowd the church’s holy air with their cries, but he had not expected them to go so far with him. He did not blame them, though. In their place he would have done the same.

“You will regret your silence.”

Something pressed against his hole and Alfred had to restrain himself from jumping away. It only took him a moment to recognize what it was.

“We’re going to clean you out. There is no hiding the truth from us, Alfred.”

Before the words had fully sunken in, the brother pressed down on the plunger of the syringe he held, cold liquid flooding into Alfred’s ass. He jerked in his bonds, horrified. He was clean inside from bodily effluence, something he had made sure of before his outing earlier, but still, the very concept of what they intended to do to him sent a hot wave of shame to his stomach like bile. It was not the only thing to gather there, as the brother unrelentingly forced down the last of the water in the enema. When he pulled the nozzle free, Alfred clenched down, mortified at being seen in such a way, and one of the brothers pressed a thumb to his hole as if to assist, keeping the fluid inside. He could hear the clatter of them refilling the syringe and whipped his head from side to side, trying to see.

“Even now you lie to us?” The pressure on his asshole was removed but before he could release anything the nozzle penetrated him again, effectively plugging him. “Don’t pretend your body isn’t used to being used in such a manner. Just looking at it is enough.”

The second syringe full began to fill him and Alfred shifted uncomfortably, gnawing his bit. Already his gut began to churn, folded awkwardly against his legs and tight with discomfiture. When the third was pressed into him, he could not help but moan in low pain, cramps beginning to bite at his insides.

“You whine like a child. You aren’t getting away with this now.”

A forth load filled him and Alfred looked up in panic at the brother nearest his face, trying to convey his sincere apologies with wet eyes and quick breaths. It was too much, his stomach beginning to bloat where it was confined. When the nozzle pulled out this time he could not hold it all and a few droplets sprayed back, prompting the firm finger to hold him closed yet again.

“You want to let it out?” He nodded empathically, even knowing it would expose him in his sin, but the man continued, “here, on the floor in front of all of us? Like some beast?”

Alfred could not respond so he stared at their legs which surrounded him, choking back tears. He tried to pull away when the nozzle breached him again, though he could hardly move.

“You know we’re going to have to tell Master about this.”

He did whine then, trying to cry out through his gag. Alfred did know, horrible as it was, a truth more painful than the thought of having the let go of himself in front of all these men he loved and respected.

So distracted was he by his anguish that he again jolted when something else nudged his hole.

“Sit and think on your actions.”

It pushed in cruelly, a plug, not huge but wide enough to stretch his ass beyond comfort as they carefully worked it inside him. there was no intention to pleasure him here, but the stimulation he’d had earlier signaled his body to open up around it regardless, a shame that manifested in a warbled sound around his bit as it popped past the widest point, coming to rest snugly against his prostate. Immediately his body tried to force it back out, warring with the weight inside him, and the brother had to hold the plug steady for a moment as his ass visibly throbbed against it. Tears were beginning to stick to Alfred’s lashes and he shook his head, pleading through the gag to let him be. It was too much, too lewd of a punishment, but there was no sympathy for him, as expected.

“We will return.”

They left him crouched there, unable to move without a sharp pain piercing him from his stuffed gut, the burn in his arms and legs growing unbearable, and all he could do was try to breathe as the panic really set in. He had taken much inside himself before, but nothing like this, nor with the threat of his exposure. The overstimulation of the pain and the lingering sensitivity from earlier was building hard and heavy in his belly, his cock, trapped in the confined of its cage, throbbing as memories of what he had done plagued his skin. Alfred was strong, a hunter through and through, but he could take wounds far more easily than he could take humiliation. To be cut and bruised were signs of a battle well fought, and he bore them with pride. The pain he felt now, however, was nothing like the simply slice of a blade or sting of a fist, and he rocked back and forth on his aching feet and tried his hardest just to breathe.

When they returned, Alfred was near sobbing, the pressure inside him so phenomenal, so personal, that he could not help but be humbled by it. If he had looked a mess before, he was far worse now, his cheeks blotchy and red, shining with tears and snot. Spittle drooled from his mouth, still forced open around the bit, itching where it coagulated down his neck. The stress position they had set him in shot fire through every joint, till he was tempted to fall onto his side just to relieve some of the agony, but if he did so he was sure he would die from the fluid inside him shifting. He turned to them, pleading through his eyes, some soft noise of placation gargling in his throat. Then another form entered the room and he was stunned into silence.

“Here he is, Master.”

Logarius had to duck slightly to enter the room, though it was made to accommodate him, and his gaze was cold as it set upon Alfred. His heart had been pounding, but now he felt he might die, should die, from the way it throbbed in his chest. They had not simply told Him of what Alfred had done, they had brought Him to see, and here he was, shamed and debauched. He could blame no one but himself. Even with the way his stomach cramped and bloated, pleasure swelled in his cock just from knowing this, and it anguished him more. They didn’t just want to twist the truth out of him, they wanted to punish him. Logarius wanted to punish him. He deserved it. He should be ground into the cobblestones till he was nothing but a greasy paste, but this was still worse.

“Look,” said the eldest brother, “even now he’s loose as a street whore.”

He came up behind and Alfred tried to shy away. Betraying him yet, his ass clenched, pushing at the plug, which had begun to protrude enough to make the skin stretch pink and raw around it. though not yet at its widest point, the was his hole flexed in an attempt to release the tension inside had pushed it far and not allowed its return, until he could only feel the burn, and the way it reminded him of pleasure. His prostate, aching from how long it had been abused, felt as swollen as his gut.

“Are you trying to push it out? Release yourself all over the floor like a dog?”

He tried to look back at the man desperately, shaking his head. When he turned back Logarius was regarding him with a scowl, and while it held no strict contempt it hurt worse than any of the tortures yet. Another spasm wrung his intestine and his asshole flexed around the plug, visibly bobbing inside him. Unable to help himself, Alfred choked on another sob.

“Is it true, Alfred?”

He did not need to specify. Alfred could not lie to him as he had his brothers, but he could not speak the truth either, so he just stared, wide eyed and terrified.

“He won’t say, the brat, but we’ll get to the truth one way or another. Get him up.”

They began to work the knots about his ankles and blood poured into them again like a bucket of pins. It was almost a relief until his knees were freed and spread from their agony only to send a hot shock through his gut, the movement shifting the plug deeper as his buttocks closed. He did not cry but they could hear the way his breath came harder and sneered. One of them brought a chair closer and another left the room, but Alfred could not question their motives for his mind was filled with a singular panic as two of them began to force him to his numb feet. Suddenly the pressure in his stomach was drawn down, gravity clawing at him, and his body clenched hard, again fighting with the plug to release him from it. He squeezed his ass tightly in an attempt to combat this, forcing the plug in deeper still, and a ragged squeal hung trapped in his throat.

He made it, though, only to be again dropped, this time into the seat they’d brung, and then all hands were on him again to position him as desired. He was facing Logarius now, fully, and he felt nauseous from the horror as his shoulders were bound back to the chair but his hips were angled forwards and his legs were spread. He fought against this, even knowing better in his head, unable to bear the mortification, but with each thrash his stomach sloshed and another hot flash shook him to the bone. The brothers won, of course, and pulled his legs, still bound ankle to thigh, wide apart, so that Master Logarius could see everything; his cock trapped tight in its cage, his balls bloated with need, and the plug, still somewhat protruding within his twitching hole. He shook his head wildly, begging in his prayers, knowing he deserved no answer.

“When this comes out,” said a brother, grasping the end of the plug in cruel fingers and shoving it in a bit, an action which made Alfred’s head loll on his neck, “we shall see what you’re hiding from us.”

The brother who had left returned holding a wash basin, the small kind they laid the hands and feet of beggars in to clean, and Alfred began to tug again at his bonds because he knew indeed what was expected of him. When the gag was unclasped from behind his head, catching a few stray hairs in its lock and pulling them from his scalp harshly, he gasped for air.

“Please,” he said, the first word he was able to form and all that filled his mind, “please, don’t do this!”

“We do nothing,” snapped a brother, gripping his chin harshly so as to spit the words in his face, “nothing that you have not done to yourself tenfold.”

“And how dare you whimper like a coward before our Master?”

The basin was placed at the foot of the chair, directly between his legs, and Alfred sputtered and whined. Logarius watched on, unmoving so as to appear like stone, marble, a figure too perfect to be real. Alfred’s asshole throbbed and the plug again bulged outward.

“Please,” he tried again, hyperventilating, “don’t make me, not in front of Master! Please, please!”

“I thought you wanted it out?”

The hand returned to the plug handle and pulled, ever so slightly, so that he stretched more and more and his ass bowed out around it grotesquely. He shook his head harder.

“Please-!”

With a disgusted sound, the brother pulled his hand back and with it the plug, which popped from Alfred’s rear loudly, showering the floor with loose beads of fluid. Alfred couldn’t even scream, for all his effort was suddenly diverted to closing himself up again, his ass clenching with visible force.

“Do you intend to lie to us all, Alfred? You disgrace our brotherhood!”

His eyes were squeezed shut so tightly it hurt.

“I can’t, not while He’s watching, please-!”

His thighs tried to close but the brothers held them fast, even as he sweat drenched them from the strain. It burned so badly.

“Please, forgive this hideous display, Master,” said the senior brother, “he will break soon.”

Alfred wanted Logarius to say something so badly, whether it be to condemn or free him, any word to make the air tremble and his soul quake. Instead Logarius did nothing, still as unmoving and unpitying as the justice he represented. Alfred’s balls contracted slightly, wanting to cum, wanting Logarius to crush him. His asshole puckered outwards, a small trickle of liquid splashing out before he could help himself. It was the tiniest expulsion but he nearly swooned at how herculean the task of holding back was, clenching hard to stop it.

“It-it hurts!” Alfred cried, again trying to close his legs, “let me go! I can’t!”

“You will and you must!”

One of the brothers pressed the palm of his hand flat against Alfred’s stomach and pushed in forcefully, and Alfred hollered gutturally, a sound of pure exertion as he forced himself to remain closed.

“We know you cleaned yourself, Alfred, we know you aren’t going to shit. If there’s nothing dirty inside you, show us. Prove you haven’t been out laying with men like a slattern, prove it to Master!”

“It’s still so-!” another push inside and he threw his head from side to side, screaming through his teeth.

“No!”

But there were two hands on his belly now, massaging down upon him hard, and he was so hot and his skin felt like it was going to burst at the seams. The strain was too great.

“Don’t look at me, Master! I beg of you, don’t-!”

His legs hitched, unintentionally spreading himself wider, as he seized. Another tiny spill dribbled down his ruckled asshole, and his entire body contracted as he tried again to stop it, but there was so much pressure inside and he was throbbing head to toe.

“Don’t-!”

He broke. He released and the water they’d pumped him with sprayed full force into the basin, splashing around it in shining rivulets as the stress forced it all from within. Several of the brothers closer to it jumped back to avoid catching droplets on their vestments, but it didn’t matter – they no longer needed to squeeze him to wring the liquid from him. The force of the relief washed over him in waves, and when his muscles paused it was only for a moment to regain himself before another torrent jet out. Everything clenched, Alfred weeping his moans as his agony abated and was replaced with the unwanted pleasure of release. His heart was in his cock as his hole spat pulse after pulse of water into the basin, and when there was near nothing left he was at the edge of orgasm, entire body alive with quakes. His asshole winked open periodically, expelling as much left inside him as possible, exposing his red innards to everyone’s eyes, all of his impurity made public.

“There it is, there’s the proof!”

He could barely see what surrounded him through his sorrow. A brother pointed to the basin furiously, looking to Logarius.

“See the remnants of his trysts!”

Indeed the water had grown a thick murky shade, jism forming white swirls across the top as the mixture settled. Logarius did not move to look closer, but could undoubtedly see it. It was over. Alfred prayed he would be killed. His hole fluttered.

“Clean him up, then leave him. I must think on his punishment.”

Alfred lifted his weary eyes to his Master, poison in his veins. It was a blasphemous thing to do, after what he had become, but he could not help himself. He needed to see Him and feel the full weight of His condemnation. Perhaps sensing this, Logarius dropped his own gaze and met him. Alfred’s cock visibly twitched.

“Alfred,” he said, his voice deep and enveloping as the sea, “I am very disappointed.”

Then he turned and left, but Alfred could not see it as he was engulfed in the repugnance of orgasm.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Bloodfire](https://archiveofourown.org/works/23643499) by [pickledegghead](https://archiveofourown.org/users/pickledegghead/pseuds/pickledegghead)


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